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“Let me come with you!”

“No, just go,” he said, slamming his door shut. “He’s already wound up, let me go by myself.”

Alyssa sighed. “Please don’t let anything happen to him.”

John’s neck was stiff, throbbing as he straightened his posture. The blanket that was wrapped around him fell to the floor. Looking at the darkened window, John glanced at his watch—it was nearly six in the evening.

“You looked cold, so I had the nurse get me a blanket for you.”

John’s head snapped to his right at Maryanne. Picking up the blanket, he said, “Thank you.”

She patted the seat next to her and John sat down. He took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry I came the way I did … but thank you for letting me see him.”

How he made it to the hospital in one piece was beyond him. John was pretty far gone when he hopped in his truck and gunned it. He had to see Jace.

She rubbed his hand. The frown on her face was felt deep inside. “It’s okay. I knew where your heart was, I just don’t like knowing you drove drunk, considering …” she trailed off.

When he stumbled into the hospital earlier, John begged the nurse to let him into Jace’s room but she refused. When Maryanne saw the condition John was in, she took pity on him and allowed John in for fifteen minutes and then made him stay in the waiting room until he wore off the alcohol.

Those fifteen minutes were the shortest minutes of his life. Jace was completely helpless and on life support. John sat there quietly as tears rolled down his cheeks starting at his comatose friend. He was drunk and his vision blurry, but he kept praying that everything would be okay, that Jace was going to make it.

John’s walls were caving in, his heart hammered in his chest. He’d do anything to make Jace wake up.

John looked down, ashamed of his actions. “I apologize. It was stupid and reckless of me.”

She nodded accepting his apology staring straight ahead like she was lost in her thoughts.

“Have the doctors said anything yet?”

“They have. A few tests came back and they have hope, which gives me hope. His blood and oxygen levels are back to normal, but we still won’t know about his brain activity until another day or so. The surgeries he had look good, they said. Now we play the waiting game.”

“Have they said anything else?”

Maryanne paused for a minute. “There’s a good chance that when he wakes up he won’t have any brain activity.”

John’s heart dropped into his stomach, bile rose to his throat.

“Any idea when we’ll know?”

“They’re going to wait another day or two until the swelling goes down in his brain to wake him up. Once they do, another test will be given and we’ll know then.” Maryanne swallowed. “John, what happened that night?”

John inhaled and let it roll out. A shiver wracked his body. He didn’t want to tell her, but he felt like he owed it to her to be truthful.

“A bunch of us were hanging out by Whiskey River drinking beer around a fire. We were celebrating the end of our second year of college when we decided to go hang back at my house. When we got onto the road, Jace started swerving in and out of the lanes playing around. You know Jace and I always did crazy, stupid shit—“

She laughed sadly.

“But then he got a little carried away and started driving too fast. I got worried and had Alyssa call him so she could tell him to tone it down …” John swallowed hard when she removed her hand from his. “Keep going,” she pushed.

“I could see the back of his head when he grabbed for his phone. He leaned to the right …” he stammered. “It must’ve been on his seat because he swerved sharply to the right and nicked the bushes …” John shook his head in disbelief. The pounding in his chest was growing harder, a knot forming in his throat.

She stood with large, distressed eyes. He could only imagine what was running through her head. Maryanne paced back and forth in the cold, sterile room. John just stood stock still watching her. Did he go to her? Did he say something? He was so torn he didn’t know what to do. Her arms were crossed tight against her chest. John was trying desperately to read her actions, but was failing miserably.

Then she stopped and turned to look at him. Her harsh gaze softened and John exhaled a loud breath. His emotions were going haywire. He was dazed and confused.

“Honey, I don’t blame you, I can see it in your eyes. You’re easy to read, always have been,” she smiled softly. “Am I hurt that Jace drove drunk? Of course I am. What mother wouldn’t be? Does it hurt even more knowing that a phone call is what put Jace in the state that he’s in? More than anything, but I don’t blame you. I don’t blame you,” she reiterated. “I’m upset hearing what happened and picturing it in my head.

“I’m just happy that both of you weren’t hurt. Both boys in ICU? It’s difficult as it is with my son in there, I can’t imagine two.”